The argument
by An-awkward-fangirl-in-221b
Summary: John and Sherlock have and argument that spirals out of control, John leaves to cool off for a couple of days at his girlfriend's place. Some unfortunate things were said and old habits hit our favourite detective rather hard.
1. Chapter one

**Chapter one**

2 weeks, three hours, six minutes and thirty two seconds was how long it had been since John had left.

Sherlock had been counting since the moment John had stormed out after their argument and every second he piled up like grains of sand in his mind palace. Sure at points he'd blacked out but he'd always check up on the time passed.

He looked around him by swinging his head and his world tilted and sloshed like the mixtures in his syringes. He felt physically sick as his balance messed about.

The drug den was about the same as when he laid down to drift around in and out of consciousness and his tourinquet was still tied around his arm. It was the only time he ever used a belt.

If he rolled to his right he could see Joey, his breathing was extremely laboured and Sherlock could already see the beginnings of an overdose creeping on. Wasn't much he could do though he supposed, he had told Joey he'd taken too much but does anyone ever listen to him? No.

Sherlock huffed and rolled back onto his left, hand searching around next to him for a needle, a full one. He was tired of this den now and would move if he wasn't so high off his face he didn't trust himself to stand. Normally he'd just leave but by now his whole brain was stuck in "what's the point" mode and he couldn't be bothered to do anything especially not walk to the other side of town.

He sternly reminded himself the point was that if Joey stopped breathing (which was inevitable) someone would call the ambulance and the cops would show and Sherlock wasn't in the mood to be bailed by his brother.

So he pulled himself up, his movements, although not weak, were staggered and slightly sluggish, which would of been less noticeably had Sherlock not been Sherlock and normally extremely energetic.

Bill, a friend of sorts, next to him stirred and said something like "where ya goin' shezza?"

"Anywhere but here" he replied, pulling on his blue coat again after removing his turinquet and stuffing his unused needles into his pockets. The thin rollmatt underneath him puffing back into shape as he got off it.

Shezza was his street name. John had made fun of him the first time he heard it, but that was a while ago. No use dwelling on old times he guessed.

But the thought of John sent a pang of what? pain? Regret? Shame? Through his chest and he almost clenched a hand to his heart.

"You alright Shez?"

"Yeah yeah fine Bill" Sherlock only muttered his response as he used the wall to hold himself on his feet before he started forward. The walls were dirty and crumbling and bits of greying paint came off on his hands as he leaned on it.

The doorframe looked weak as ever and bits of crumbling wall stuck to the bottom of his shoes. Before leaving Sherlock took one more look over his shoulder at the miserable group of people around him laid on the floor or on rollmatts covered in their own filth. And he was one of them.

Going down the stairs was awkward and the steps were just a little too small to be walked down comfortably, Sammy at the door nodded to him civilly as he left. Sammy kept watch for police and all manners of people who weren't supposed to be there, he was armed with merely a pipe but Sherlock doubted that he had ever used it apart from to scare off those unwelcome if they wouldn't buy his stories.

The wind outside was strong and pulled hard at his coat and hair the moment he stepped out the building. Rain pounded down on him and he barely noticed himself shiver as it ran down the inside of his coat which wasn't even fastened.

His joggers and dark shirt completely soaked, but he didn't care really, they would drive eventually and the sneakers could rot for all he cared they were cheap trash it was fine.

Mycroft had cut off his funding as soon as he realised that sherlock was no longer clean freezing his accounts.

He reached his hands into his pockets and felt the leather of his wallet and the plastic and glass of his syringes. Making sure they were still there even though he knew already that they were still there it was just comforting he supposed or something else he couldn't think of right now.

Sherlock sighed and watched as the cloud trickled out of his mouth into the cold air, reminding him of his smoking days.

He passed a security camera and nodded in acknowledgment before flipping it off and resuming his detour that avoided all surveillance so he could find a new place without being followed there and dragged out.

He had been bouncing around the dens for a while now after leaving the flat. At first he had stayed in his flat, just going out to buy some more coke but then he snapped at miss Hudson and decided it was best that he left and found somewhere else to mope about where he couldn't yell at people.

And so here he was entering another damn drug den and making his way to the far corner of the room to shoot up again. 'Just like the good ol' days' crossed his mind briefly as he entered the shabby building.

*


	2. Chapter2

**Chapter 2**

The new den was just as shabby as the last one, only difference; there were a lot more girls. The last one was mostly lads apart from Lucy. This den was smaller as well the last one there was about fourty five users all cramped into a room on roll matts, there was only seven girls and two lads in total here, so adding Sherlock there was only ten addicts in the room which Sherlock much preferred.

It only took sherlock one sweeping look over the girls to know why there was so many girls in this joint and he turned around to leave only to be stopped by a skinny man in a suit along with two other much bulkier men (not in suits). Sherlock sighed.

"Hmmmmmmm" the guys looked him up and down and Sherlock opened his mouth to speak but got talked over "how much you got?"

"What" Sherlock was taken slightly aback, his whole body was itching and he just needed to shoot up and leave and now this man was addressing him when Sherlock was already confused by the painful tendrils of a headache crushing his brain.

"How much have you got on you?"

"What does that matter" Sherlock tried to move past but one of the two larger men just pushed Sherlock back and shook his head, which only resulted in him receiving a glare from Sherlock.

"Look I'm tryna help both you and me here buddy, see the girls seem to like you, he gestured begins Sherlock and the girls got off the coach, two of them stayed and looked high of their tits while some of the others were smiling at him and others looked interested in him.

Sherlock felt like a cornered animal being blocked in on all sides as their gazes bore into him, "what do you want?" Sherlock spoke through gritted teeth but he knew the guy in front of him could see the spots of sweat pricking on Sherlock's brow and the slight tremor starting in his hands, Sherlock was desperate.

The man merely smiled at him, gleaming white teeth flashing as he pushed open a second door near him, "come into my office and we'll talk how about that? Mr?"

"Holmes" Sherlock knew for a fact the guy had seen him in the paper, most people knew of him by now with press like there was in London, it wasn't very helpful for keeping a low profile. He was merely asking his name as a formality. And taht was why he hadn't used an alias, there was no point.

"Well Mr Holmes you're in luck" he then walked into the room while Sherlock was roughly shoved from behind, he barely managed to stay on his feet, especially with his reflexes right now. He was starting to wish he had stayed at the last place. "Take a seat"

"I'd prefer not to"

The man, sat behind his desk now, merely smiled at him, "I'd advise you sit down before you collapse on my floor, you're shaking like a leaf" his words were pointed and fact, it was an order not advice.

Sherlock sat, not because he was scared of this man, pfff of course not, but because he didn't trust his knees to hold him up right at this moment. If this man took too long he would just leave himself before he got too far in coming down. 'I am not addicted, I am just a user' he thought to himself reassuringly, he knew Mycroft would have some smartass comment to make about that.

"Now, before we start, shoot up so I can talk to you without fearing you're gonna start detoxing painfully on my nice hardwood floor"

Sherlock wanted to snipe at him saying he was fine or just leave rather than being talked to so condescendingly but his body took over and so did his less rational side. Practically ripping his sleeve as he chucked off his coat and rolled up his sleeve, grabbing the belt from his pocket and tying it around his forearm before scrambling in his other pocket for a syringe.

The man merely leaned back in his chair and watched with interest, the procedure itself wasn't that interesting, he'd seen many an addict with arms covered in bruises and the pock marks of a user while they shot up. He had seen the exist same girl of mist roll over their eyes as the chemicals pumped round their blood stream, it was just interesting to see in his. Sherlock's Holmes. An addict. And in his playing field, he could have some fun with this.

Sherlock, began unbuckling the belt and rolling down his sleeves and pulling on his coat again, content with the blissful blanket that had fallen over his mind and a lot more comfortable now regardless of how concerned he should be with his situation.

"See I could blackmail you right now, reap all expenses from you to not tell the press your secret. However you probably wouldn't be bothered by that would you? Your brother would pay the fees anyway, I heard what he did to an old colleague of mine, word gets round in tight knit communities like _ours_ eh?"

Sherlock ignored his last question, "so what are you going to do instead?" He didn't sit up from his leaned position in the chair.

"Offer you a job"

Sherlock snorted, he couldn't help it. The man in front of him didn't look impressed.

"I know what you're thinking, not like my girls out there, although you would do good you're aware of the fact your looks would do me quite well-" he leaned forward and Sherlock moved away from him pulling his arms into his lap so the man in the suit couldn't reach him, "but I don't think you'd be willing to do that? Not just yet anyway"

The implications of '_not just yet_' were uncomfortable to say the least but he tried to let it slide, he may as well hear the guy out, but he didn't seem to be doing too well.

"My girls like company ya see, and a few of them seem to like you, Caramel for example was excited to see a new face around here rather than the other two bums here, they're not very nice to my girls ya see and I want to keep my girls happy and here. So I offer you this; you keep my seven girls company after I chuck the other two and help me a little on the side, I've heard the stories of your detections or whatever you call them it would be helpful to have that on my team, criminality is a dangerous business ya know? Would be nice to have an advisor on what people are really like"

Sherlock leant forward, "firstly, it's 'deduction'. Secondly, what do I get in return?"

The man across the table smiled at him grandly, "coke, morphine whatever ya need I've got it, you probably already know that's how I pay a few of my girls"

Sherlock's brain considered for a second, he was low on cash and it would be good to save what he had left. Also didnt seem too bad, chatting with some girls and finally putting his skills to use after not being able to go back to The Yard.

"It's probably below your skill level I'm aware but I mean..." the end to that sentence was unsaid but not unheard by Sherlock, "just give it a try, that or I guess I could threaten you with something like alerting your brother to your whereabouts or the police, I'm sure your doctor friend is looking for you-"

Sherlock didn't even mean to bite back at that point but he did "he's not." The man in front of him looked at him quizzically for a second but then continued;

"I much prefer having a positive relationship with my _employees_ though so, we agreed?"

Sherlock considered again but his decision was made it could hardly do him harm and he much preferred it to being lazily threatened **and **mycroft chasing him, he could lay low here for a while he supposed-

"So?" The man raised his eyebrows as he watched the cogs turning in Sherlock's brain.

"You have a deal"

The man grinned and leaned over the table to shake Sherlock's hand, which the detective begrudgingly accepted, "the name is Andy by the way, can I call you Sherl? I'm gonna call you that we're all on first name basis here it's a friendly environment"

Sherlock stood up and was ushered out the room by the two larger guys one of which broke a smile at him as he passed.

At the door Sherlock was greeted by happy girls who had obviously been listening and he felt kind of sorry for them; they were stuck here being used like toys because they were addicted to something or just simply couldn't pay to live anywhere, the bottom of the barrel.

A few of them grabbed his arm and excitedly led him to the couch.

"My names Carmel! And that's Sady and Candy and Saphire and Ruby and Chloe and Ruth!" Got chirped at him as they pulled him to sit down and the flocked around him, a bunch of hungry birds starved of _proper_ interaction and cooped up in this shithole so they were all too pleased to have someone new to talk to.

As he got question fired at him Sherlock could hear the two lads being kicked out in the background, something about stealing from the boss. Andy probably felt he got a jackpot with Sherlock's arrival.

Sherlock could stay for a bit he supposed.

*


	3. chapter3

**Chapter 3**

"So tell us about you! We don't get many talkative vistitors!"

'I bet you don't' is what Sherlock thought, what he said was "there's not much to tell" Sherlock felt awkward with a lot of attention on him at once, sure you'd think he'd be used to the attention but he wasn't used to being asked a load of personal questions (excluding the vultures that were the press but he usually managed to avoid them).

"Awwww that's not true! Pleaseeeee" Carmel whined. All the girls were sat around him on the sofa and all were either excited to have him there or wary, he didn't blame them for the latter.

He studied Carmel for a second, she was the youngest of them and, despite the fact he knew she wasn't, she was strangely innocent, acting a lot younger than she was, she was probably only about seventeen to eighteen and already in a system like this. Thinking that made his skin crawl uncomfortably.

"Well you know basics you were listening at the door, like you know my name" he paused and the girls nodded encouragingly, desperate to hear some story in this boring constant repetitive cycle they must be living in, "Well I'm sure you know I'm a consulting detective?"

The girls all nodded but Ruth looked minorly confused; "what's a consulting detective? Is it just a special branch or something?"

Sherlock smiled, he hadn't had a proper conversation with someone in over two weeks if you don't count yelling and formalities, "basically I help the police when they're out of their depth...which is often" a few of the girls giggled at the last part.

"So you must be like really smart" Chloe spoke up, she looked the shyest but he smiled at her warmly. Remembering what John had taught him...John.

"You alright?" It was Carmel she had a hand on his shoulder, Sherlock realised he hadn't replied immediately.

"Yeah yeah fine just thinking. And yeah I guess you could say I was smart Chloe" Chloe looked excited by this and prodded more.

"Cool! I think I'm smart as well, probably not as smart as you, but I want to be a lawyer when I'm older I just have to wait until I can pay to do my degree!" She had that almost faraway gaze as she spoke of being a lawyer, clearly thrilled by the prospect of the courtroom, even though in reality it was nothing like it was on TV it was around ninty eight percent paperwork and pencil pusher tasks.

The other girls introduced themselves briefly and told him snippets of information about themselves, going round and talking for a bout two minutes each.

He got a couple more questions fired at him like "whats your favourite case so far!" "Are you working on it now?" "How old are you?" "How long are you going to be staying?" "Is it fun and cool being in Scotland Yard?" "Have you seen a body?"

He answered them all simply, warming up to the girls, he didn't usually like conversation with 'gold-fish' as Mycroft called the public, but he was enjoying talking to these people. They were very kind and enthusiastic about Sherlock and his work and it was a way that he enjoyed being treated.

"Where's your doctor friend? Is he coming?!" Carmel's voice was high with excitement but it caught sherlcok off guard.

Sherlock felt his world tip, the boat become unsteady again and his mood was dampened instantly, "I don't want to talk about him"

"Oh sorry, why not?"

Sherlock found himself gritting his teeth "I just don't" he got up.

"Where you going?" It was Ruby, she was the most mature out of them and the mum of the group.

"Bathroom" was all Sherlock could mumble in return as he walked to the end of the room, then down the corridor to the office and turned into the little bathroom, it was a single bathroom and obviously not disabled access. It had a toilet, a sink and a cracked mirror that looked like they hadn't been cleaned in years.

Sherlock made eye-contact with himself in the mirror as he gripped the sink with his hands. He was a mess, his hair was more unruly than usual, his face was grey, his eyes were cold again and misted. He just wanted to drift off in his druggy haze not have to bother with things like this.

But he couldn't help the thoughts that popped into his head "what would he say if he saw you now?" "You know exactly what he would've said before don't you?" "Sherlock you bloody idiot do you want to kill yourself!" He could hear John's words, "but what would he say now? Good riddance! Would he even speak to you?"

Sherlock's knuckles were white as he held on the sink, fearing he may collapse if he softened his grip even a little. He could feel his eyes watering but refused to make a scene. '_He's a lot happier now it's fine, we don't need him anyway we were just fine before him' _Sherlock thought this while calming himself down, but he knew the last bit wasn't true.

He wiped himself up while running the sink, the water was freezing and he would remember not to drink from the taps here looking at the water.

The lock on the bathroom door got stuck as he tried to exist, it was a little sliding bolt and clearly hadn't been oiled or looked after recently. He did get out though and was glad that no girls were waiting at the door.

He trudged back into the main room as the girls abruptly stopped whispering to one another and smiled at him, not with their eyes though.

Sherlock sat down on one of the matts along the walls and pulled his legs up to his chest while his back pressed against the cool concrete and flaking plaster behind him. Closing his eyes he tried to just drift through the haze again until he was needed for whatever useless job this man had for him. This itself in stoping talking to the girls was probably classed as slagging off but Sherlock couldn't really care less, he just wanted to be blank for a while.

After what felt like ten seconds but was probably half an hour to a couple of hours, Sherlock was interrupted Carmel, Candy and Chloe.

"Did you and your doctor friend have a fight or something?" Carmel spoke first, her voice oddly hushed, a few of the other girls watched from the coach in silence. Sady was no where to be seen, probably working. She had 'hit the nail right on the head' as the common idiom went.

Sherlock didn't say anything just stared at his knees and went through the periodic table internally 'hydrogen, helium, lithium-'

Candy spoke next, "please tell us? We just want to help?"

"Well you can't" Sherlock was surprised by the bluntness in his own voice and felt slightly bad about it, he just wanted to be left alone and was regretting coming here he just wanted to be back in his flat with tea and John. He just wanted John, he wanted this whole mess to be over.

Sherlock could feel the warmth and prickling in the corners of his eyes but ignored it as 'useless chemical defects in the brain' causing it.

"Oh Sher" it was Chloe she and the other girls reached forward and wrapped themselves around him, normally Sherlock would resist the physical contact but he felt himself folding into them and found it hard to convince himself he'd only known them a couple of hours and only talked to them for one or a half.

The other girls from the sofa apart from the other high one all approached him. Someone, he believes it was Ruby, began running their hands through his hair and he couldn't help the sound that came out, it was a whimper sob and he felt so weak there but he couldn't help it. John used to run his hand through Sherlock's hair when he was thinking.

All the girls reacted to this with doubling their sympathy and hugging him more saying comforting nonsense like;

"It will all be alright"

"Oh you poor thing"

"Oh bless I'll go make some tea"

"Bless him"

"Shhh it's okay"

As they fretted over him, the girl, Saphire it had been, came back with a warm cup of tea and shooed the other girls back a little bit, handing it to Sherlock who's knees were now down and his hands were tremoring lightly.

Most of the other girls had their arms around him or had light contact with him in some way as he held the steaming cup in his hands, not wanting to spill on the floor.

Ruby started talking again, her and Saphire sat across from him, "you need to talk to someone about it sweetie you can't keep it all bottled up it will only be worse" her tone and soft yet no-nonsense words reminded him of his mum even though she couldn't of been more than three years older than him at most.

Carmel behind him was rubbing his back as Sherlock just stared down into the milky and freshly boiled liquid in his hands.

"Please?" Chloe's voice was low and soft.

And so he began to talk.

*


	4. Chapter4

**Chapter 4**

_2 weeks, six and a half hours, fifteen minutes and twenty seconds ago_

Sherlock arrived back into the flat early on the Wednesday morning, crashed through the door to 221B and dropped instantly onto the couch. John stood and stared at him, his foot tapping irritably.

"Phone" Sherlock lolled his hand out and John's mouth went slightly agape.

"What" John's teeth were slightly gritted now and his tapping had violently stopped, he was frozen, it was almost humerous.

"I think it's quite clear, our usual routine. I hold out my hand and ask for an item and you toss it to me, sometimes you're quick enough to not even need me to say the item"

Sherlock turned his head to look at John and could see the red heating around the doctor's collar, "something wrong?" It was obvious he didn't even know why he asked the question, he hoped it would earn him a merit he supposed. It did the opposite.

"_'Something wrong?' _YES THERES SOMETHING BLOODY WRONG!" Sherlock flinched as John's voice shot into yelling "YOU SHOW UP OUT OF NO WHERE LIKE YOU HAVENT BEEN GONE FOR FOURTEEN HOURS WITHOUT A WORD AND YOU JUST LAY DOWN AND ASK FOR YOUR PHONE!?!?! I HAD TO CANCEL MY DATE FOR YOU!"

Sherlock sighed, so that was what this was about, "look I got busy it's not my fault you cancelled"

"NOT YOUR FAULT!!!! NOT YOUR FAULT MY ARSE'! I CANCELLED BECAUSE YOU WERE OFF SOMEHWERE PROBABLT GETTING BEATEN OR SHOT AT AND YOU WERENT AMSWERING MY MESSAGES I WENT BLOODY LOOKKING FOR YOU AROUND LONDON AND THEN YOU JUST WALTZ IN HERE AT THREE AM AND JUST FUCKING SIT ON MY COUCH AND ACT LIKE YOU HAVENT BEEN IGNORING MY CALLS"

"Well-" Sherlock's calm attitude was flipped and he was trying to explain himself now instead of dismissing it, but he didn't have the chance.

"YOU LEAVE HERE BEFORE I GET BACK FROM WORK WITHOUT SO MUCH AS A TEXT TO SAY YOULL BE GONE FOR HALF A FUCKING DAY AND THEN I FIND OUT YOU GOT IN MORE TROUBLE WITH THE YARD BECAUSE NOT ONLY DID YOU STEAL EVIDENCE AGAIN YOU DIDNT TELL THE FORENSICS TEAM ABOUT A BLOODY BODY FOR TWENTY FUCKING MINUTES!!!"

"THEY WOULD'VE TAMPERED WITH IT!" Sherlock was raising his voice now and was face to face with John, glaring down at the shorter man with extreme agitation.

"THATS BECAUSE ITS THEIR BLOODY JOBS!" Both of their faces were red now and John began stomping toward him, forcing sherlcok backwards, "YOU DONT HAVE A FUCKING REAL JOB SHERLOCK YOU JUST RUN AROUND IGNORING LAWS AND GETTING HIGH OFF BLOODY DEAD PEOPLE" John was spitting in his anger as he screamed at his flat mate.

"STOP YELLING" Sherlock was breathing heavily now and was stood on the couch, this had escalated far too much far too quickly.

"Stop yelling? Stop yelling?" John was almost muttering in disbelief and Sherlock could feel his own stress level jumping through the roof.

Sherlock dropped his voice, "can we please just calm down" Sherlock felt he was gasping for air here, he just wanted John to calm down, to sit down and have a cuppa, go to bed and be fine in the morning, "look, you've had some drink and I feel you're overreacting so can we just sit down and talk about it properly"

"Overreacting?!" Shit. "OVERREACTING!!!! IM NOT BLOODY OVERREACTING YOU FUCKING IDIOT" Sherlock flinched again "YOU ALWAYS DO BULLSHIT LIKE THIS YOU THINK YOU CAN DO WHATEVER THE FUCK YOU WANT, YOU JUST LEAVE CHEMICALS ON OUR TABLE, RUN ABOUT LONDON WITH A GUN YOU CANT EVEN LEGALLY OWN, YOU STEAL AND HIDE EVIDENCE AND FILES AND YOU DONT GIVE A DAMN ABOUT ANYONE BUT YOURSLEF! YOURE A FUCKINGPYSCHOPATH AND DONOVAN WAS BLOODY RIGHT I SHOULD NEVER OF GONE WITH YOU THAT FIRST NIGHT WITH THE CABBIE!"

Sherlock could feel himself shaking, his anger crashing catastrophically into hurt, "I-"

Johns voice dropped and it was somehow scarier than him yelling, "I am done Sherlock" Sherlock felt like the air was being squeezed from his chest. He couldn't speak. So John did, "I am done with you just walking around like you own the bloody place, scaring my girlfriends off and putting yourself and everyone in danger constantly"

John stormed upstairs to his room and Sherlock just stood there for a second, frozen, he didn't realise he was causing that much trouble. 

A couple of minutes later John stormed down the stairs holding a rucksack in his hands, ignoring Sherlock as he grabbed his cane and coat from beside the armchair before practically jogging down the stairs.

"Where are you going?!" Was all Sherlock could manage rushing out to the door to 221B

"Anywhere but here." 

Sherlock froze for a second but then was filled with overwhelming anger, this had spiralled way out of control, "fine then! Leave!" He crossed his arms and turned away from the door.

He heard the door to the set of flats close and could only manage to stand there for about another minute before he realised his mistake.

Sherlock rushed down the stairs fast, practically tripping up and not even pulling on his coat as he smashed out the door into the rain that had started a couple of minutes ago.

He quickly scanned the street on both sides and saw John getting into a cab a couple of metres from him, chucking his rucksack in violently.

"JOHN!" Sherlock heard himself more so than knew he was saying it, he found his heart pounding harder in his chest as he rushed at the cab. John didn't even glance at him, "JOHN WAIT!" 

This time John paused and looked at him, Sherlock did the same, he was only a few metres away now. John just shook his head and got in, Sherlock heard someone else voice from inside the cab.

John slammed the door and Sherlock sprinted as fast as he could, feeling the pound of his feet on the concrete and almost slipping every step in the rain covered street. Just as he reached the cab it drove past and splashed Sherlock terribly.

He just stood there. A true spectacle in the rain. Sherlock Holmes, shivering as rain water turned his shirt see through, half untucked, and didn't move to go back inside. But no one was there to watch him, not even the neighbours who would've undoubtedly heard them if they weren't away in Spain.

Sherlock rushed back inside, screw him, he didn't need him he was Sherlock bloody Holmes it was fine.

Mrs Hudson popped her head out of her door as he ran past her up the stairs to 221B then into his room, slamming the door harshly which he knew Mrs Hudson wouldn't approve. 

When he got there he just collapsed against the wood of his door and buried his face in his hands, it wasn't fine, not at all. The only thing that interrupted his self loathing was a bleep from his pocket, it was a message, he didn't know what he hoped for but it want what he received.

'_You know he is right on most accounts -MH'_

Sherlock was suddenly filled with the white hot rage again and threw his phone at the wall. Hearing the crack of his screen as it hit it, but he couldn't care less. He then got up and ran to his book case, tearing out all the cameras Mycroft had put there and then ran to the other places such as his picture frames.

The he just collapsed against the bottom of his bed again and cried. 

He was mad but not at John it Mycroft or anyone else, just at his self. How did he not realise this sooner before it became a problem? He thought he was doing well, he had been trying to be more considerate of Molly and things and had been going off less at Anderson even if the forensic didn't return the favour. The only reason he didn't call the police immediately was he knew the murderer was still in the building and thought it best to find him first and stop him escaping. He tried to keep his experriments to a confined space and only used the labelled pans and things so as "not to poison them".

Around twenty minutes later Mrs Hudson came in with cups of tea and sit with him. She didn't say anything at first just sat with him, her hand on his comfortingly.

"I thought I was doing better" was all Sherlock managed to whisper, barely audible.

Mrs Hudson pat his hand gently, "me too dariling me too, just give him some time. You know how much stress he's been having at the clinic recently it probably just built up that's all"

Sherlock nodded, but he didn't believe her. 

~

The next day he went round to John's girlfriends house, Mrs hudson said he should bring flowers but he kindly reminded her that John and his girlfriend wouldn't be very pleased with that.

So instead he brought John a new jumper he knew he'd been eying up for a month or two now, it was a navy blue one with white stitching (John already had some navy blue ones but Sherlock accepted it as one of those things).

"I brought this for John, I want to apologise to him" it was mumbled as he stared down at the red ribbon tied around the jumper, he'd been fiddling with it in the cab trying to straighten it fruitlessly.

"He doesn't want to talk to you" she was blunt and glares at him, going to shut the door.

Sherlock stopped it with his foot, "please" he stared up at and begged her with his eyes to let him in. Begging. That's what he had resorted to.

She didn't though, "John is much happier without being weighed down by a crazy freak like you he's told me the stuff you do and I encouraged him to do what he has. Don't come again" with that she slammed the door on him. Sherlock barely managing to pull his foot out the way.

He felt himslef and the jumper in his hands visibly sag. Out the corner of his eye he saw the curtain on the bedroom shut across, it was John moving away from it. For a good ten seconds he considered scaling the side of the building, it was only a small attached house he could make it to the window easily. But realistically he didn't. 

Sherlock chucked the jumper in the bin on the corner and practically ran off, he knew exactly where he was going.

~

From there Sherlock met a dealer he had heard about and got some stuff, then head back the flat. He then got changed and went to the yard, they had a new body turn up. Anderson was to his usual antics but it eventually got to Sherlock that morning;

_"Where's your puppy dog John huh? Gone somewhere else? Finally ditched you hmm? Gone to-"_

_"SHUT UP" Sherlock spun round fast and caught Anderson off guard, sherlock tried to calm himself, __"Shut up."_

_Anderson's surprise turned into a smirk, "hear that Donovan he's finally gone and scared the doctor off! I wish ol' John the best of luck now that he's making good decisions"_

_Donovan pulled Anderson on the arm, "that's enough Phillip" Sherlock stormed off before he could hear the rest._

~

He continued to stay in the flat for a further three days before, high as hell, he scared Mrs Hudson by yelling at her in his state.

After practically grovelling when he apologised she said it was "fine sweetie" he just needed to "stop right now before he hurts himself"

Sherlock decided that was it he wasn't good for them there and left to stay in a den. The rest is history, he just bounced around dens for a while, high off his face 24/7.

*

_Authors note: I don't know why it's cantering the writing on this chapter I can't change it sorry_


	5. Chapter5

**Chapter 5**

And so he told them most of that as it happened, only looking up afterwards to watch their faces.

"Has he tried to contact you since?" Caramel's voice was hushed.

"No" Sherlock's dropped too, "not that I know of"

Ruby hummed, "were you close?" Sherlock merely shrugged, "well you lived together, did you do a lot together?"

Sherlock nodded, believing he was in the wrong but still upset by it as he had tried a lot harder since John he entered his life and thought he was doing well.

"I just- I thought I was doing better" he mumbled and Chloe just pat him on the knee gently.

Andy came in out of no where and clapped once to draw attention, "so! Now that you've had a lovely introduction I think it's time you girls get back to work hmm? We have some lovely lads coming in today" the girls scurried back to their sofa and a few went and crammed into the bathroom to use the mirror. "Sherlock? Come with me"

Sherlcok pulled himslef to his feet, drank fe last of his (now) cold tea and walked after Andy. Shoving his hands into his coat pockets.

They entered his office and there were two men sat in the two seats in front of it, Andy's own grand chair empty, "stand behind me" Andy whispered.

Sherlock went and did as he was told standing just on Andy's right and leaning against the wall, the people in the seats looks unimpressed by his presence.

"Why's he here?" It was said with a sneer but Sherlock ignored him, instead opting to look around the office from this angle.

Andy merely ignored the question, "so what is it you so desperately wanted to see me for?"

The one who hadn't spoken yet leaned forward and rested his arms on the table, "you know damn well what we're to see you for Andy; you didn't pay last month and you'll pay double this month as well as last months if you don't want your little secret to get out or us to tip our caps to the police"

Andy motioned for sherlcok to come forward and nodded at him, it was clear what he was to do.

Sherlock let his gaze roam over them as he deduced them and they turned to him, "what?" It was the first one who spoke, Johnson was the name judging by the sharpied name on the tag of his jacket.

"Johnson I'm sure you wouldn't like your little secret coming out as well"

Johnson's eyebrows creased and he feigned confusion, "what?"

"Your wife wouldn't be very pleased to know you were cheating on her, especially with other men" he shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, "and I don't think you'd really want your little girl knowing that daddy was cheating on mummy would you?"

Johnson froze and he saw his partner edge away from him, disgust plastered on his face, "that's not true!" He was looking at Johnson though.

"He's high off his face don't listen to him he's making things up" Johnson was panicking and tried to push it off.

Sherlock shrugged, "your ring is shiny on the inside from how often you remove it but the outside is barely polished, a dying romance, the only thing keeping you together is your daughter, Daisy, you're holding her birthday present in your left pocket, a golden necklace with her name on. Very sweet and sentimental I must say. Now you have a wife so most would assume you're straight correct? Including said unhappy partner. But you're quite obviously not, the care taken in your attire, your belt is missing at another guys apartment most likely so your trousers are dropping slightly revealing a brand of underwear common and favoured among gay men, and you have a gay club card in your inside coat pocket, the corner is poking out I recognise it as one only twenty minutes walk from your house in Essex, it's a membership card about two years old, VIP, you're probably telling your wife the money is spent on betting or something aren't you? Idiot"

Everyone in the room went quiet and then Andy beamed at Sherlock. Johnson couldn't even stutter words and his partner had stood up. Sherlock felt minorly sorry for him but knowing the countless crimes the man had committed he couldnt really care less.

It was Andy's turn to lean forward on the table, "I think it's time you boys leave." The men left the room and Johnson was self consciously hoisting his trousers upwards.

Andy turned to Sherlock, grinning, "weldone, that'll keep them both of them off for a while"

"Secret?" Sherlock turned to Andy and started deducing him but nothing in particular stood out to him about Andy, nothing taht thugs would blackmail him for.

Andy simply waved Sherlock off, "unimportant"

Sherlock left his eyes roaming over everything in the room and deciding to investigate the matter further, the first thing to busy himself with in a while. What felt like years to him.


	6. Chapter-6

The next couple of days went similarly without much that stood out, he would talk with the girls on the couch during breaks or when there was no 'customers' to be seen to.

He was teaching Carmel, Cindy and Ruby how to deduce and they were picking it up splendidly, well splendidly for "gold-fish" at least.

They had practiced on the bouncers and customers and he was pretty pleased by how well it was going but was still shaken every time one of the girls said something like "brilliant!" Or "fantastic!" When he taught them something new or deduced someone. It was hard to get used to someone else saying it other than John.

Andy hadn't had any other jobs for him but today he did, waltzing in he clicked his fingers at Sherlock and made a hand movement telling Sherlock to go with him.

They actually left the building this time and they were all piled into one jeep. Andy and Sherlock in the back while two henchmen drove and navigated. It was a silent ride with only Andy's cool comments about 'what a fantastic day it was for _them'_.

Andy was trying to give off a calm collected extrerior but Sherlock could clearly tell he was buzzing with excitement, it must be a good deal.

"What are we doing today?" Sherlock's voice was low and a little rough but Andy smiled at him as he replied;

"Oh were just getting some new things! Weapons, your pay, other such stuff. And of course we're also threatening a couple of people, gotta keep them in their place ya know"

Sherlock modded but it was merely a formality, "and my job is to see if they're good to deal with and to give you blackmail"

Andy frowned a little at this, "well I wouldn't call it 'blackmail' just ya know, insurance"

Sherlock ignored him and they rode in silence the rest of the way.

It took an hour and a half before they pulled up at their destination, a large, seemingly abandoned, warehouse abundant in "keep out" and "private property" signs as well as a few hazard ones in the mix.

Andy practically leaves out the car in his excitement but Sherlock was wary of the place. The henchmen were steely and blank, unphased and unconcerned, they did this kind of stuff every day. It's what they're paid for.

They entered the building by dodging under a whole in the fence and going through a side entrance near an outside staircase. They were immediately greeted by about eighteen people crowded around a good seven crates.

One of the people stepped forward, "Andy! Good to see you, who's your friend? You know we like confidentially" he cocked his head as he said it after giving Sherlock a cold glance. It was more of a threat than a question and everyone knew it.

"Oh come on Sam he's a friend, a great asset to me you see" he seemed to silently debate with himself for a second, giving Sherlock a sideways glance, "want a demonstration?"

'Sam' looked interested in this offer and nodded silently, watching as Sherlock stepped forward.

Sherlock surveyed the room and then turned to 'Sam' and asked him to pick a person. Sam looked at Andy for reassurance and Andy merely soothes his mind with "he's not going to hurt them or beat them up that's not his job I have bouncers for that."

Sam picked a burly looking guy from the left and he came to stand face to face with Sherlock, he was a good couple of inches taller but Sherlock didn't feel threatened, Andy wouldn't let his 'assets' get damaged he was fine.

After walking around him in a circle Sherlock turned to Andy, waiting for his signal. Andy nodded.

"Name's Joshua, works in a construction site, doesn't live with his family anymore, divorced twice, around thirty six, has two cats; tabbies, grey and white. Recovered alcoholic but is often almost tempted by his colleagues, two records of theft and aggravated assault. Worried about his sick mother who's currently staying in south shield's hospital"

Everyone was silent in the room and more than a little taken aback, Sherlock merely stepped back into his place from before as Sam stared at him.

"How did you know all that?"

Sherlock shrugged, "deduction, you can tell by looking at him. you guys aren't the best at going undercover, disguises always reveal a little more about yourselves than you'd hope."

Andy was grinning at him as Joshua went to stand back in his place. Almost everyone's eyes now trained on him some with curiosity, some impressed and some threatening.

The deal went smoothly from there and Sherlock tried to look at what was being dealed but one of the henchmen from the other side came and stood in front of him, blocking his view.

"That's hardly necessary" it was Andy who spoke first, sounding exasperated.

"Look I just don't trust him okay, now do you have the money?"

They sealed the deal, handed over the money and then began leaving but Sam called out, "how much for the profiler or whatever he is?"

Andy and Sherlock froze but the former just spun round and gave a dismissive hand gesture, "not for sale sorry mate"

Sam's fist curled up but he said nothing more.

Andy and Sherlock got in the jeep and set off back, the crates being delivered by a van behind them that had been lended to them to take the packages back with.

About halfway into their drive Sherlock asked Andy something, "do you mind dropping me off somewhere I'll be back for whatever time I just want to see someone?" Sherlock was quiet and hadn't asked something of Andy yet. All drugs were given to him without spoken words.

Andy seemed to debate for a second tilting his head side to side, "hmmmmm", his mouth broke into a smile then "sure, grab some stuff on this list while you're out and be back before dark obviously"

He then began to scribble furiously on a small notepad and ripped off the piece of paper, handing it to Sherlock along with a twenty pound note.

"Where ya wanna go buddy?" Andy did have a very relaxed relationship with his 'employees' at times but exceedingly cold to anyone who minorly crosses him, or just uses the wrong tone.

Sherlock gave them the address and remained silent for the rest of the ride, reading the list and thinking about what he was going to do, and if he should really be doing it to himself.

After he was dropped off outside the supermarket near his address he looked down at the awkwardly scrawled list again;

_Milk, semi-skimmed_

_White bread_

_Coffee pods x2 boxes_

_Honey_

_Sugar cubes _

He hated shopping. John used to do it for them instead, he knew Sherlock hated being in supermarkets, it was so excruciatingly boring. But he guessed he would just have to learn to do stuff like this by himself.

He got the items and paid for them silently, despite the cashier trying to make conversation with him desperately.

He left the store with a large reusable carrier bag with the shop name written on it in bright obnoxious yellow, but it was one of the only two styles of bag they had available and he couldn't really balance all this stuff in his arms (although he probably could've if he was clean and could trust his balance, all he would have to do was keep the center of balance stable for each object),

He then began trudging to his destination as it began raining, flipping his hood up causally and shoving one of his hands deep into his pocket.

The people following him kept their distance as they watched him walking along looking rather distant and dead. He hadn't noticed they were there. But he would know soon enough.

*

Sorry this one took ages to be posted and is relatively short, but oooh kinda cliff hanger? Is that mean? Anyway thanks for all the support, I hope you all have a lovely day!

Also sorry if it's mean being vague about where he's going but I'm sure you can all guess. I feel mean making him this sad but I'm a writer so yeah apologies in advance and for what you've already read.


	7. Chapter-7

He walked slowly, because he was not sure about the certainty of his destination. Not certainty of where it was but if he could make himself walk there.

It took twenty minutes before he was at his first destination, a flower shop where the owner owed him one or two favours. He bought a single bouquet and borrowed a pen to write on the tag with, after this he headed to his first destination.

He stood outside 221 Baker Street and stared up at it, thinking of how empty those rooms would remain for some time. He knew Mrs Hudson probably wouldn't rent them out again, she was sentimental like that.

He placed the bouquet on the doorstep silently and read the tag once more to check it (despite the fact he knew he didn't have to);

_Dear Mrs Hudson,_

_Please don't worry about me I'm alright I've just gone to stay somewhere else for a while. I hope you're doing well and those men have finished painting your ceiling for you. _

_-SH_

He had needed to write on the back of the tag to fix it but luckily both sides were blank so he could. He really wanted to go inside and sit and have tea with Mrs Hudson but reminded himself why he couldn't. He was a hinderance and a danger for her.

He used the knocker and slipped away, hiding round the corner at the end of the street. He watched Mrs Hudson come out and find them, she read the tag then looked around for him.

She looked so worried and he almost stepped out but he caught himself as she quickly went back inside, probably to call mycroft.

His next stop was John's flat. He didn't have flowers for him but he doubted John would've wanted them anyway.

John wasn't in but his girlfriend was, she was sorting the washing from what Sherlock could see from the window.

He decided to find John but looked up and realised he needed to get back before dusk so postponed it for next time.

As he walked back he couldn't help but few disappointed John wasn't there, although he knew if John was it would've just upset him anyway so he didn't know what he wanted.

He trudged back slowly. The rain trickling down his back icily and causing him to shiver harshly.

He was just turning into the alley outside the den when he heard loud rushed footsteps behind him, he turned to be greeted with a bin lid flying towards him.

His reflexes failed him due to the drugs and he was smacked hard in the chest, sending him flying back wards to the floor.

Seven men crowded around Sherlock's body and he recognised one of them as someone from the team at the deal. Sam wasn't there though, he had sent lower-downs to do his dirty work.

"Not so tough now are you huh? Magic tricks rent so great when you suck at self defence?" As be said this he got a steel capped boot to the chest and coughed up blood at them before he answered shakily;

"Fuck...you"

There was a curt laugh from a few in the group Effie they began kicking and stomping on Sherlock's probe figure, Sherlock curled into a ball and tried not to cry out as they continued.

After a bit their assault was interupted by Andy's voice, "What the hell do you think you're doing! Get the fuck away from him!" And the sound of a gun being fired as the men retreated.

Sherlock's whole world was red and filled with black spots and smudges. Everything was sloshy and blurry and hard to see. You

Andy was crouched beside him now and speaking to him but Sherlock couldn't really concentrate on it. Not only was his body tormented already, he could feel the start of a withdrawal creeping in.

"Angus! Isaac! Call his brother! Get him to send an ambulance!" He heard Andy shout this and struggled to move.

"No...stop...not-" he was interrupted by his own coughing and got blood all over Andy's favourite jacket in the process.

Ambulances arrived some time later but Sherlock couldn't yell how long, it could've been weeks for all he knew, although it wasn't logically.

The screeching of the ambulances were high and sent sharp stabbing pain through Sherlock's skull and he groaned in response and tried to turn away from them, only resulting in more crushing pain and the struggle to breathe become more of a battle.

"Sherlock!" It was mycroft's voice and as he yelled he dropped into Sherlock's slanted view, "oh god sherlock" Sherlock's heart dropped for a second and he mouthed his mouth to speak but nothing came out but blood.

"SHERLOCK!" It's couldn't be, "SHERLOCK!" The speaker dropped into view, "oh my god Sherlock no Sherlock oh my god you idiot Sherlock" it was John.

Sherlock looked from Mycroft to John and held his eyes for a second, and then began crying at the sight of the crouched doctor. John just stared in horror at his best friend who was bloodied and started crying at the sight of him, gasping and coughing as he sobbed and tears mingled with the blood on his shirt.

It was at this point the paramedics rushed over and loves Sherlock onto a stretcher and into the ambulance.

As he was taken away John was confused to see a group of wailing girls flock around his stretcher, lightly brushing their hands over him and sobbing as they clutched to eachother for support. They knew Sherlock's name and when the ambulance began to set off John could see them following in a couple of jeeps behind them.

All Sherlock could remember after being put on the stretcher was excuritating pain, the sound of a siren and someone holding his hand.

*

**_OOF_**

**_Yes that's my authors note I know I'm evil it upsets me too I'm not completely heartless I promise._**


	8. Chapter-8

Sherlock awoke slowly, dragging himself out of unconsciousness was a hard task, one he partly didn't want to do. But he knew he had to, eventually at least.

When he first cracked his eyes open he just screwed them shit again, it was way too bright, white light stabbing into his eyes and sending tendrils of pain through his head.

Sterile hospital smell invaded his nose and stung his throat. Oh his throat was parched, like sandpaper so he coughed a little before fully opening his eyes and sitting up.

As he suspected he was in a hospital room, with the itchy starched white sheets and paper thin pillows. The curtains to a window on his right were being drawn by Mycroft and Sherlock could just about see small shards of daylight sneaking through the crack.

He opened his mouth to speak but someone just pressed a plastic cup filled with water into his hand before he could, which was probably wise.

The person was Mycroft's secretary or whatever she was, right now wearing a badge saying 'Sarah', clearly not her real name. In her hand was her cellphone and she continued to rapidly type on it.

Sherlock drank silently and studied the room some more, his eyes were painful still but not too swollen which was good, looking down at himself he could see he was a bit messy, mostly bruises though apart from a cast on one arm and two fingers taped together on his other hand.

Mycroft saw Sherlock looking down at himself and any emotion was hidden from his tone as he spoke, "it could've been worse, you had some internal bleeding when you arrived but they sorted it, two heart failures but you should be steady now and not much else other than a couple of broken ribs and a shattered collar bone"

Sherlock merely sat silently and wished they'd turn up his damn medication because it hurt a lot more than he'd admit, the cast was a sleek black though so that was alright.

"You're also fully detoxed but you knew that, it was quite a turbulent time for everyone. And of course you've been out for about three days now, this is the fourth, and it's around three thirty two" Mycroft then picked up his coat, nodded to Sherlock with an almost inaudible 'brother' and then swiftly left with 'Sarah' trailing behind him.

Sherlock was only left alone for another minute or so and spent it attempting to remove some of the wires from himself.

This was interupted when John walked into the room and jogged over to his side telling him to "stop touching that wire right now Sherlock Holmes or so help me-" and plugging them all back in.

Sherlock just sat silently as John rushed about and was utterly confused and wary but also ready to cry again. His confusion was easier to overcome when he reminded himself John was probably only there because he felt guilty over it, no other reason.

But that only made it hurt a little more.

"You were stupid to do those drugs Sherlock, what were you thinking!" Sherlock shrugged and winced as his collar bone shifted slightly

John caught this and made his way round to Sherlock's left as he spoke, turning up Sherlock's doses on the machine, "you could've died Sherlock! Your heart failed twice! Do you know how terrifying that was!" Sherlock could hear the tremor in his voice and felt terrible about it.

John sat down again on Sherlock's right and put his head in his hands, "in just glad you're okay, if anything happened to you..." he trailed off and Sherlock could feel the pricking of tears in his eyes but said nothing, he had missed john so much.

Sherlock tried to be nice then, make up in a way, "where's Abby?"

John dismissed it quickly, unwilling to elaborate on "oh we broke up" like he normally would. Sherlock felt kinda bad for asking now, however John didn't seem to upset about it.

"...I thought you were, you know, living together now." The hidden meaning of the sentence was obvious to John and he looked hurt for a second.

"I wasn't really going to Sherlock I was only gonna be out a couple of hours but then stuff came up I'm sorry- I" John had reached forward for Sherlock's hand but stopped before taking it, looking at the tape wrapped around his fingers, "I'm so sorry"

Sherlock felt bad at the tremor that entered his voice again, "it's okay, John", John could hear the slight tremor enter Sherlock's voice as he said his name.

John cleared his voice before he spoke again, "how's your arms? I thought you'd prefer a darker cast to a white one..."

Sherlock just nodded quietly, "thanks yeah" he then spoke again, but with more hesitation, "how long has Mycroft been here? In the hospital I mean, since I arrived."

Sherlock had already deduced the answer but asked anyway, knowing he could be off by a bit. And not quite trusting his own estimation.

"Since the ambulance ride here, he's slept in the waiting room and then in your room as soon as you got one. He hasn't left once, even Anathema, or Sarah or whoever was here to tell him if he had any important work things" John took a moment to gage Sherlock's reaction, "your his brother Sherlock and your heart stopped twice, he was worried about you"

Sherlock shifted uncomfortably in the bed but didn't reply.

They sat in silence for another few minutes before John spoke quietly, "I'm sorry"

Sherlock didn't answer, he felt like he was treading on eggshells here, he didn't want John to leave again.

John spoke again, his voice hushed, "I was only going to leave for a couple of hours", it seemed more of a self-reassurance than actually directed at Sherlock. Who just looked at his best friend silently.

"Then why did you have the duffel bag?" It was quieter than John's and almost inaudible, it wasn't accusing or harsh it was solemn and genuine.

"Oh Sherlock I- it was- it was for Abby, she had, left some stuff at ours and well, I was going to return it anyway but i grabbed it because I was going round and I just didn't...think- you would- I would...well..."

Sherlock didn't say anything he just sat and thought, John could practically see the cogs grinding and turning in his brain.

"I think I have some explaining to do and so do you, so I'll start" John's noice was calm and he seemed to swallow a hard lump in his throat as he spoke, his Adam's apple bobbing.

And so he began explaining...

*

**_Oof sorry that took so long to publish I'm in the middle of exams babes I promise to update faster next time!_**


	9. Chapter-9

_John stormed out of the flat quickly, rain streaming down the collar on his coat and soaking him, causing him to shiver. Abby was waiting outside in a cab, she had just left from visiting him and had waited when she saw a man arrive back and enter the flat._

_John chucked the rucksack into the cab and was greeted by an all to pleased Abby, "hey baby! Good job" John shook his head at her, he wasn't in the mood right now._

_He then saw Sherlock out the corner of his eye and heard his name being yelled, the detective sounded frantic, terrified almost._

_Before he could look back up at him he felt Abby's hand on his wrist and he was pulled into the cab and the door shut behind him, the driver rushing off at Abby's instruction._

_The rest of ride was in silence other than Abby's constant blabbering about him staying with her. John coudln't match her enthusiasm._

_When they got to her house the rain had calmed down to more of a drizzle than the pounding it had been when he first left the flat. _

_Abby paid the driver and then excitedly ran up to her door, rucksack in hand. John followed slowly, the distance seeming much longer than just the curb to the steps._

_Inside Abby took the rucksack from him and chucked it on the couch before trying to pull him to the bedroom, he wasn't in the mood for it though. And she wasn't in the mood for him when he told her that._

_So she stayed in the bedroom and he went downstairs to the couch, he watched Tv for a couple of hours and could feel his anger seeping away from him, it was no longer "that fucking idiot he scared the hell out of me" it was "oh god I'm an idiot what have I done" _

_John tried to text Sherlock because of this but got no reply, his message didn't even deliver, that got him more concerned but before anything else could happen Abby had come down to make tea and, without speaking to one another, John went upstairs to think._

_Thinking turned into sleeping out of pure exhaustion, passing out in an armchair in the guest room._

_He woke up the next day to folded clothes on his bed and an alarm clock going off for six-thirty. He'd only slept about two and a half hours, great._

_When he got up and looked at the clothes on his bed he could see they were his own clothes; some jeans, shirts, underpants, socks and jumpers._

_"Hey Abby, why are my clothes here?!" John yelled down the stairs to his girlfriend and he could hear he trotting up them in her stupid heels to come talk to him._

_"So you can wear them silly, I went and grabbed them yesterday" John looked at her with a look crossed between confusion and angered realisation._

_"And why were you waiting in the cab yesterday?" _

_Abby shifted uncomfortably after seeing the change in John's tone, "well I saw you get in and then I saw that man-"_

_"Sherlock"_

_"Yeah yeah him, get in after you and just, assumed you would want me to hold the cab for you, and you did so"_

_John was silent, he knew exactly what was going on, there was way too much clothes here for one day, this was at least two or three weeks worth. _

_Abby was trying to trick him into moving out when he'd already told her eight or so times he wasn't moving in with her any time soon. She was incredibly jealous of Sherlock, John talked of him constantly and his very existence infuriated Sherlock._

_John had made a mistake, but it was too late now._

_John spoke quietly, glaring at the ground at his feet, "get out of my sight", he had messed up and could feel the anger boiling up in him, how had he not notice her alterior motive, she was always making rude comments about Sherlock and she was all too excited to hype John up to be mad at him._

_Abby turned silently, anger pressing her lips together, before she trotted down the stairs again, slamming the door at the bottom._

_John collapsed onto the bed and revisited the events of last night, **god** he has said some bad things how the hell was Sherlock going to forgive him._

_As all hope seemed lost John heard the sound of the doorbell, after about a minute without the sound of the door being shut he got up and looked out the window._

_And there in front of his door was Sherlock Holmes, he has his foot forward in the door way and he looked more distressed than John had ever seen him, he looked to be saying "please" before stumbling backwards, clearly the door had been slammed on him. In his hands was what John immediately recognised as a jumper he had been looking at for a while but not bought yet, it had a red ribbon tied around it and it looked to droop in Sherlock's hands as the man himself sagged._

_Just then Sherlock looked up at the window and they held eye-contact for a second. John made up his mind._

_He ran from the curtain and down the stairs, taking them two at a time, all anger gone from him, replaced with desperation to make up with Sherlock._

_At the door Abby barred his way._

_"Get the hell out the way Abby!" John could feel anger seeping into his desperation now._

_"No John he's bad for you don't go after him"_

_John almost burst out yelling but then did something much worse, he took a deep breath and spoke quietly between his grinding teeth, "Sherlock is a better person than you will ever be Abby"_

_Abby feel silent, her face contorted with agitation and offence, but John merely shoved past her and ran out the door, but Sherlock was gone._

_John jogged partly up and down the street when something caught his eye. The bin. In it was the jumper and ribbon, he had dumped it._

_John slowly and gingerly reached in and pulled it out, feeling the soft material on his hands as he collapsed into the bench next to it, "oh Sherlock" he could feel tears at his eyes "I've made such a mess of things"._

_After twenty minutes he went back into Abby's and straight up the stairs, grabbing his clothes and stuffing them into the now empty rucksack._

_When he came back downstairs he saw Abby sat on the couch, she stood at his enterance and went to scold him but got spoken over._

_"What did you say to him" Abby glared at him indignantly but he only spoke again, this time more aggressively, "I said, **what did you say to him."** _

_Abby spoke curtly and obnoxiously, she had such an annoying voice John realised, "I told him exactly what I think, that he's a selfish pompous freak and that you don't want to see him"_

_"YOU WHAT" John flung the rucksack down at his feet and saw her back away from him, "YOU FUCKING BITCH" _

_Abby flinched but didn't stop speaking, "he is John he is and I'm not a bitch I told him the truth"_

_"You fucking idiot! That's not the bloody truth, you were always a spiteful and jealous creature, the only reason I'm still dating you is because I haven't got round to breaking up yet" John's words were hurtful but truthful._

_"Oh really! Well that not bloody way for you to speak to your girlfriend you fuckin idiot you are making a terrible decision"_

_John had his hands on his hips now and spoke condescendingly to her "oh I'm sorry I think you're confused, what girlfriend? You're just an annoying ex who slept with two of her co-workers while dating me because she's such a whore" _

_Abby opened and closed her mouth in shock._

_"Good-bye Abby"_

_John stormed out the door and heard the smashing of a lamp flying against the wall next to him as he left with his rucksack of clothes._

_He had to find Sherlock._

_*_

_Authors note: hey guys I'm glad you're enjoying this I hope that this chapter has cleared up some questions about John's reactions and things, thank you for reading! Have a lovely week!_


	10. Chapter-10

"After that I went looking at Scotland Yard for you, was told you stormed out and I went to see Mycroft, I got lectured and he was being indifferent and argued for a bit but then he agreed to help and I waited a couple of days for you to calm down and then when I went round Mrs Hudson told me you were gone" John looked up from his hands which he has been fiddling with for the last fourth minutes of talking "after that me, Mycroft and Lestrade searched for you in drug dens and such, despite me not wanting to believe you had gone to one so fast"

Sherlock was quiet for a bit. Before he told his side of the story, explaining how he ended up in the den and then how he got the job offer from Andy and so on, only leaving out anything related to how depressed he had been without John, "wait, where are the girls?" Sherlock looked concerned as he asked John that and the doctor shifted uncomfortably in response.

"I didn't think you'd want them visiting you"

Sherlock shook his head "no no send them in they'll be worried otherwise, and tell Mycroft I'll need him to organise a couple of slush funds"

John day quietly for a second before standing up and going to the door, he then turned into the corridor and told a nurse to get the visitors for Mr Holmes and let them in.

A couple of minutes later the gang of girls came rushing down the corridor, little bouquets in hand and they rushed into the room.

"Sherly!" They rushed him from both sides and cooed over him, giving him forehead kisses and gentle hand squeezes as they asked who he was and John saw Sherlock smile slightly, a lot had changed in the space of mere weeks.

They stood near him and sat on his bed while asking questions as he explained what had happened outside and how he has ended up in hospital, they sounded and looked like a couple of school-girls.

John stood at the door quietly, not sure what to do with himself as he watched Sherlock talk and smile with these girls, assuring them he was fine and letting them fawn over him and sort his hair, he thanked them for the bouquets and told them to calm down or people would talk, which got a laugh out of them all.

After about fifteen minutes they began kissing him on the forehead in turn and taking their leave, only two remained, Carmel and Ruby, Carmel squeezed Sherlock's hand far too tightly and spoke quietly, panic edging into her voice, "you will be coming back won't you?" Sherlock looked into her eyes and didn't answer, hurt by his own indecision.

"Carmel please" it was ruby who spoke, Carmel nodded she understood, but as she started to turn away Sherlock squeezed her hand back.

"I _promise_ I'll visit" with a sad smile was her answer and then she left, joining the rest in the corridor.

Ruby kisses Sherlock's hair line, gave him motherly advice, told him the girls would be fine and that he should stay off drugs and then left, but not without a word with John.

She pulled him just outside the door and spoke to him curtly, her words almost harsh yet still caring, "he may be a slight hassle but he's an amazing man and he loves you so don't just pass it up like that because he gets on your nerves sometimes doctor, you are lucky to have someone who cares about you that much." She then nodded in a farewell and herded all the girls back out of sight.

John stood silently for a couple of seconds processing the information before going back in.

A lot had happened and a lot was happening and John wasn't sure what he thought of it.

"What did she say?" Sherlock's voice broke through his stupor.

"Nothing, just..." John trailed off and sat for a minute, when he spoke again it wasn't to finish his sentence, "why did you do it? Take drugs I mean"

Sherlock replied immediately, a knee jerk reaction, his tone unnatural, "boredom and it makes my brain work faster" he bit his tongue as soon as he said it.

John sat quietly for a couple of seconds, it didn't make sense, if Sherlock was bored he could've gone to The Yard, he went to The Yard, but the he left and didn't go back. But why? And if he wasn't working a case he didn't need his mind to be working fast?

Sherlock watched quietly as John processed what he had said and didn't believe him at all, but then John nodded and didn't argue with him, which surprised the detective.

"You shouldn't of done it Sherlock" there wasn't much scolding apart from that, no 'you bloody idiot!' Or 'you goddamn fool Sherlock!' And it was unsettling to say the least.

John himself felt like he was walking through a mine field, trying not to upset the detective, he knew what he said was wrong and he realised now how much it had actually upset the man he held so dearly, and what Ruby had said was only too fresh in his mind.

"I didn't mean what I said, at the flat, you're not- god I messed up" with this John buried his head in hands.

After a couple of seconds Sherlock gently placed his hand on John's knee, and said two simple words, quiet but full of much more meaning than anything said between the two before, "it's okay".

*

Authors note; sorry this isn't as interesting as my other chapters, they'll talk it out soon I promise, but they're both settling right now please bear with 'em!


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